


you bring all the colour to my daydreams (you bring all the quiet to my life)

by moonbreadroll



Category: Mother of Learning - nobody103
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Hurt/Comfort, I wrote it with that intention, M/M, One Shot, Pre-Relationship, i guess?, minor panic attack I think, survivors guilt kind of? Does it count?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:40:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23171101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonbreadroll/pseuds/moonbreadroll
Summary: Zach sits on a small hill just outside the city walls watching the fields. The rock at Zach’s back is cold, the grass under him still damp with morning dew and leeching heat from his legs, but Zorian is a line of warmth at his side.
Relationships: Zach Noveda/Zorian Kazinski
Comments: 3
Kudos: 35





	you bring all the colour to my daydreams (you bring all the quiet to my life)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cal14](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cal14/gifts).



Zach sits on a small hill just outside the city walls watching the fields. The rock at Zach’s back is cold, the grass under him still damp with morning dew and leeching heat from his legs, but Zorian is a line of warmth at his side. They’re shoulder-to-shoulder, thigh-to-thigh. Zach’s maneuvered Zorian half onto his lap at this point really, because his best friend radiates heat like a furnace, but Zorian hasn’t complained yet (Zach knows he won’t). Zach finds it very amusing that for all of Zorian’s frostiness he's always run hot.

Zorian has a pen in his right hand, spins it absentmindedly in a long-mastered shaping exercise, but his left rests on his knee, the long, pale fingers steepling at the corner of an open notebook, holding it in place. With the way Zach is leaning in his hand just brushes Zorian’s wrist. Two fingers against the _thudthudthud_ of a pulse, and neither of them mention it.

Zorian reads aloud the words on the page. The first draft of the first chapter of ‘Mind Magic: The Basics’ - title pending. It’s less a request for commentary and more a way for Zorian to test the words aloud, so Zach just hooks his chin over Zorian’s shoulder (they don’t mention that either) and hums agreement when necessary. Zorian’s voice is a pleasant rumble against Zach’s ear where it rests at Zorian’s throat, and when Zach closes his eyes he can smell damp grass, the fresh laundry smell of Zorian’s shirt, and something distinctly Zorian himself.

Zach is achingly content like this, even as part of him itches to move. Wants to goad Zorian away from his damn book and to spar, to Koth, to something, to anything. Because action, adventure, _adrenaline_ has been a necessary component of Zach’s life going on decades now, and he doesn’t see any good reason to change that. But this feels necessary too, in a different way. And this is a something Zach had almost lost forever.

Could’ve - _Would’ve_ been happy losing forever.

The guilt is immediate. A spear driven into Zach with all the force of a meteor that pierces sternum to pelvis and knocks the breath right out of him. Zach chokes, blinks and sees - _his eyes, blank and glassy_ \- a pretty dagger in a pale throat - _stuck up to the hilt in his neck_ \- a limp body in the rubble - _metal bits sticking out his skin_. And Gods, _Gods_ he’d felt _happy._ Zach feels sick and -

’ - _I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry_ \- ’

Zorian doesn’t pause in his recitation, but his eyes sharpen to a threat the second Zach’s thoughts coalesce. Zach is summarily and telepathically gifted with the definitive, unshakeable impression that Zorian is very unimpressed.

It jolts Zach from the vice-grip guilt and Zorian - _alive_ , brilliantly alive, and alive because he’s _brilliant_ \- knocks his chin against the crown of Zach’s head. It’s a surprisingly gentle movement for all of the intent behind it, and Zach doesn’t need to be a mind mage to read the motion.

‘ _There’s nothing to be sorry about, idiot._ ’

Sitting on a small hill just outside the city walls watching the fields, warm on one side and cold everywhere else, with a _thudthudthud_ against his fingers and Zorian’s voice a humming, physical thing against his cheek, Zach takes his first full breath in days.

**Author's Note:**

> TFW your BFF/Crush/Love of your life makes you think that he sacrificed himself so you could live, haha, amirite? Oh, Zorian, you jokester!
> 
> But also, like seriously, poor Zach D:
> 
> Nicked some lines from Chapter 104 of MOL. I'd say this is set a couple days after both Zach and Zorian have woken up. I imagine Zach still feels the need to check that Zorian is alive, and that Zorian would feel guilty enough to humour him (even when I headcannon that he's not that much of a cuddler).
> 
> Nicked the title from "Nothing But You" by Oh Wonder because I couldn't think of one and I love them and I've always wanted to write one of those perfectly satisfying all-lowercase-(with-some-brackets) title fics. I'll pick a better title later maybe
> 
> For Cal14, because to find a fic for your rare pair OTP is _amazing_ , and you've given me that so many times, and dammit, you should get to know what it feels like too! 
> 
> And really, it was your advice that let me get this out when l haven't written in _ages_. Like, this might be the third time in my life I've ever written something complete? I'm so proud~

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Blessed be the boys time can't capture](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23415991) by [Cal14](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cal14/pseuds/Cal14)




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